


Searching the Depths: The Heart of the Studio

by inkabelle_designs



Category: Bendy and the Ink Machine, Bendy and the dark revival, bendy dreams come to life, boris and the dark survival
Genre: BATIM, Boris - Freeform, Buddy Lewek - Freeform, Henry - Freeform, Henry Stein - Freeform, OC children - Freeform, OCs - Freeform, Toons - Freeform, Wally Franks - Freeform, batim spoilers, bendy - Freeform, bendy and the ink machine - Freeform, bendy dreams come to life - Freeform, bendy dreams come to life spoilers, bendy the dancing demon - Freeform, boris the wolf, cartoons, dctl spoilers, joey drew - Freeform, toon ocs - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-07-05
Updated: 2020-03-22
Packaged: 2020-06-16 03:43:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 5
Words: 16,731
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19637332
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/inkabelle_designs/pseuds/inkabelle_designs
Summary: Joey Drew is a man of ideas: and only ideas. Or so we thought. Seems Mr. Drew still has many a dream in his old age, and unfortunately, he still hasn't woken up from them. After stumbling into the opportunity of a lifetime, Joey finds himself in the middle of a new scheme that will change the fate of his beloved dancing demon. Little does he know, the changes he plans on making may be the undoing of his biggest accomplishment yet, and the start of a new chapter in the lives of his prisoners and family alike. A daughter seeking her parents' love, an artist finding their true potential, and an old friend cleaning up his messes once again. This is the story of the Depths of the Ink, and the souls that helped to piece it back together, repairing the long-forgotten Heart of the Studio.Come on and visit the old studio, won't you? We'd love to have you here.





	1. The Dawn of a Demon

It was a brisk day for spring, just a little too cold to go outside without a proper jacket. Unfortunately for Mr. Drew, his was in need of repairs, with its tattered tailcoats and elbow patches in need of replacement, but that wouldn’t stop him from taking his morning stroll. It wasn’t like anyone recognized his old, wrinkled face anymore, they would never know that he had once been so high up and fallen into ruin, so a tattered jacket made no difference, did it?

He wandered down the same sidewalk that kept his feet steady for decades, his weathered cane clacking against the concrete as he went. He avoided the cracks in a masterful manner without having to look at the ground below, knowing full well where it was safe to step. He sighed as he watched the world around him, so old and yet so new in all that flourished within it. There were many sights to behold on this simple little street. A few stray children playing hookie as they rushed to the candy store, the kindly old custodian putting up new signs for the corner store, a dapper young chap waltzing out of the barber’s, oh yes, all of them were quite beautiful. 

But the real attraction of this old road was the old cinema. It was one of the few things the old man still regarded as precious after all this time. Back in the 30s, the theater had been kind enough to air his old team’s first cartoon. For a nickel, so many children would come to see their flicks, his masterpieces, and stare in awe at the characters that danced upon the screen. He smiled to himself at the memory. The stars in their eyes were enough to light up the entire world. Even old Mr. Polk, who lived in darkness more often than not, always found himself warmed by their sense of wonder. They made every tough part of the job worth it. 

A shame it had to end. Joey Drew Studios had been closed for a few years at this point, its final projects still sitting incomplete on a drawing table back in Mr. Drew’s apartment. He tried to work on it a little bit every day to get the last cartoon complete, but it was a tedious process, and his arthritis only allowed him to do so much. Hence why he went for this walk every day, to rest his wrists and take in the fresh air. 

He slowly approached the cinema, gazing upon the incandescent bulbs that glowed softly through the dreary cloud cover. A young lad clad in a worn pageboy cap was high up on a ladder, changing out the letters to tell the world of all the new shows coming to the cinema. The colorful posters that lined the building elaborated on those messages, showing live action films and a whole slew of new cartoons that brought in the new era of animation. Joey had stuck to the old style of rubberhose, but he would admit that the 60s styles were something to behold. What he wouldn’t give to be able to make something that spiffy. 

Lost in his daydreams, he neglected to look where he was going. And thus he bumped into the ladder the worker was on. Already precariously perched, they’d been trying to get the last “e” up, but their balance was thrown off. They tumbled off the ladder and came crashing into the pavement. 

_ Crack _ .

Mr. Drew hurried to their side, his eyes wide and afraid. He immediately checked the lad for injuries and was shaken to discover their broken leg. There were tears upon their face, stuttered thoughts that wouldn't come out right, and an aura of horror and shock that wracked their tiny frame. Mr. Drew called out for help, running inside the theater to find a telephone, a worker, anyone who could assist. He couldn't live with this happening again.

-Flashback-

“Henry! Henry I'm so sorry! Jack, get Lawrence to call the hospital! Franks, you're with me, get him to the sick bay.”

Wally struggled to keep up with Joey as he hurried to lift the reckless animator up. Drew had his upper half while Wally took the lower, mindful of Henry's broken ankle. Who knew how much was broken? It was all Franks’ fault, Joey kept telling himself. If he hadn't startled Henry while he was grabbing the ink vials, everything would've been fine. But no, now his top animator was injured and probably wouldn't be able to finish the shot for another week, their deadline would be missed. Joey cursed under his breath, heaving as they carried to man onto the bed in the infirmary. He'd taken a nasty blow to the head on the way down. His shirt had gotten drenched in ink from the spill too, another load of supplies wasted for the month. Joey only grew more cross. 

“Oh dear, what happened?” 

Their nurse on site, Gen, was quick to get to work, filtering out Joey's barking as she went about her business. He ranted and raved as she looked over Henry's head and bandaged up his ankle, making sure it would be held steady for the arriving authorities. 

"I simply don't understand how you could be so clumsy Franks. This is going to put us back for weeks!" Drew sneered, glaring at the janitor.

Wally snapped back to look at him, nothing but red in his vision. "How the heck is this my fault? He was the one perched in ways he ain't 'sposed to be!"

"But YOU knocked him over!"

"Not on purpose! There's a ton of traffic in that hallway Mistah Drew, anyone could've ended up like this.”

“Nonsense, that’s all you’ve got to offer! Pure nonsense!” He snarled.

Joey grabbed the janitor by the ear and dragged him back up the stairs, shoving him into the supply closet. 

“Now get back to work, I’m paying you to clean up the messes, not make more of them!” 

Wally huffed, fixing his cap and rubbing his sore ear before he grabbed his mop. He hurried off to go clean the ink spill, muttering under his breath all the while. 

Meanwhile, Joey hurried back to Henry’s side. His demeanor quickly shifted to be far more compassionate. After all, Henry was a dear friend, how could he not care for someone that had such a deep history with him? He looked at his friend’s tired face, his eyes hiding behind heavy lids. Just what had he been thinking, why didn’t he ask for help? Isn’t that what the interns were for? Whatever the case may have been, he had to make sure he was okay. He couldn’t lose him. 

Sammy Lawrence entered the infirmary, fidgeting with his suspenders as he walked in. “Medical team should be in soon, they’re on their way.” He shook his head and held a hand to his temples. “How far is this gonna put us behind?” 

“Too far. We’ll have to pull overtime again to make it work.” 

Sammy sighed. “You really need to bring on more hires, this is getting to be too much for us.”

“We can’t afford it Lawrence.” Joey took off his glasses and cleaned them with the bottom of his dress shirt. “Not with the current state of affairs. I’ve had Cohen rework the numbers for me a million times, we can’t afford anything without another corner cut.” He threw all of his weight onto a nearby chair, his face in his hands. “Of all the times, why now? Why does something always have to go wrong whenever we’re close to finishing a masterpiece?” 

Lawrence shuffled across the room and sat beside his boss, wrapping an arm around his side. “Artists all throughout history had to deal with trials like this, we’re fortunate that this one can be overcome.” He gave the man’s shoulder a firm pat before gripping it. “We’ll get there, it’ll be fine. We just have to believe, right?” He smirked, but it wasn’t one of his usual smug smirks. No, this one felt playful, maybe even a little devious. It was clear working on the tracks for the little devil had influenced him, just a little. 

And it was no sooner than when he had lightened the mood that Henry slowly woke up. He groaned, rubbing at his eyes as he tried to gauge where he was. He tried to sit up, but Joey was quick to leap from his seat and gently force him back down. 

“Ah ah ah, no straining yourself Stein.” Joey looked him dead in the eye. “You hurt yourself, the medics are on their way to fix you up.” 

Two amber eyes rolled as he smirked up at his partner in crime. “You worry too much, you know that? Have a little faith.”

-Flashback end-

It was hard to have faith sometimes, especially when things were so quick to spiral into disaster. But he had to believe that this would be alright. He had done all he could.

Joey stayed with the worker while he waited for help to come, trying to calm them down, apologizing profusely for his mistake. They wouldn’t stop crying though, their voice cracking several times. They made sure not to move their leg, but they seemed to be eager to get something out of their apron pocket.    
  


“What do you need?” Joey asked.

They pulled at their pocket, trying to take a small book from it. Their hands were too shaky to get a good grip. Joey carefully helped them to remove it. The worker held the book close to their chest, hugging it for dear life, as though that would make everything better. After a moment, they opened it to the inside cover. Joey couldn’t help but be curious, he hadn’t seen someone so attached to something like this before. It was like a child with their favorite stuffed animal. But what he saw in that book made him pale. 

_ What he saw was an opportunity of a lifetime, one he couldn’t afford to lose. _

“Thank you.” They whispered. 

Their voice was quiet, so soft and delicate, like an angel’s feathers brushed against one’s cheek. But not long after the phrase was uttered, the medics arrived, lights flashing, to take them away. The team was quick in their work, Joey could only step aside and watch as a small smile saw him off from afar. Once the worker was out of sight, Joey went back inside the cinema and got ahold of the ticket salesman. 

“That worker, the one who just went off, what was their name?” He asked. 

The ticket salesman wiped his nose with his sleeve, rolling his eyes at the question. “Just Bryan, nobody worth carin’ for.” The boy blew a bubble from his gum and crunched it back down with a firm ‘pop.’ “Don’ see why you care so much about ‘im, if anything, ya just made the boss’ job easier.” 

Joey raised an eyebrow. “I beg your pardon?”

“Yeah, Bryan’s been in hot watah for a while, rumor has it he’s a crossdresser. Boss’s been tryin’ tah get ridda him for a while, now he’s got ‘im. Shame though, he always did bring nice baked goods from his gal tah share.” The worker shook his head. “People seem tah be so wrapped up in themselves these days, can’t get their heads outta their rears. So what if he wears dresses outside ‘ah work, still goes above and beyond to make things run around here.”

Joey frowned at that. What a narrow worldview that was, what an awful boss. He knew the ownership had been transferred over to someone else since the time of his contracts with the theater, but this was inexcusable. How could anyone be so heartless to such a loyal and obedient employee? Then again, he came from a different time. The Depression turned many people cruel and volatile, but some knew better and stood together to get through their struggles. Times weren’t as tough now, but boy, to have someone that was good at their job was a blessing. A shame people were so ignorant. He wouldn’t stand for it. 

Mr. Drew tugged a ratty old notebook and a pen from his breast pocket, furiously scribbling down his contact information before ripping the sheet out. He handed it to the ticketmaster. 

“Could you please give this to Bryan once he’s better?” Joey asked.

The ticketmaster raised an eyebrow before rolling his eyes. “You say that like he’s ever gonna come back.” 

Joey looked to him with pleading eyes. “Please, this is my fault, I have to amend it somehow.” He reached through the ticket opening a little more to push the note further. 

The worker sighed and placed a hand on it, his sausage fingers came into contact with the letters and numbers. But before he could do anything else, he froze. Joey looked to him, an ethereal glow creeping into his lavender eyes. An orange ring formed in his inner iris, a few black cracks creeping in from under his hairline. 

“Sorry about this.” He grinned, a pleasantly devious grin, wider than the Cheshire cat’s. “I just need to be sure this goes the way it should.” 

He leaned in a little closer. The only thing that separated them was the protective layer of glass. He could hear the worker hyperventilating, sweat pouring from his brow to the front of his greasy shirt. It was horribly claustrophobic. 

“So you’re going to answer this for me. What are Bryan’s full name and address? You’ve made it clear I can’t trust you to carry out a favor, so now we have to do this the hard way.” 

The ticketmaster gulped frightfully. He opened his mouth to answer the question, but the feeling of squishiness in his hand caught him off guard. His eyes widened in fright at the sight of ink crawling up his arm. It wrapped itself around his limb in virus-like tendrils, creaking its way up until there was a small glob over his lips. His eyes faded away, until they were filled with nothing but a dead blackness. The ink over his mouth settled into a dark lipstick. When the ink finally allowed him to speak, he was monotone, robotic and broken with no life in his voice.

“Bryan Ewe, lives at 414 Breckenridge Ave.” 

“Breckenridge?” Joey tapped his chin in thought. “Right by Marianno’s Pizzeria, yes?”

“Yes, that’s correct.” 

Joey smirked, his teeth glimmering in the limited light of the booth. “Thank you my good sir. Here’s wishing you a pleasant rest of the day.” 

With the hand of a skilled conductor, Joey signaled the ink to end its hold on the young man. As it returned to its paper, the ticketmaster held his head, dizzy and confused. What had just happened? It was unclear whether or not he knew. He ignored Joey’s departure as he put the note in his pocket. Who knows? Maybe it would make its way to Bryan after all. Something told him he would need to be rid of it sooner rather than later. 

Joey hummed to himself as he continued down his route. There were still a few hours left before his niece would come to visit, perhaps he should grab some more chocolate chips, make her favorite cookies that afternoon. That would be splendid. Maybe he’d even have some tea for Linda to take on the road for her meeting tonight. That would be a nice change of pace. 

But most importantly, he had some planning to do. A horrible accident had become the start of a new scheme, a plan that would bring him back to the top where he belonged. Yes, Giuseppe Drew would rest at nothing to make sure this worked. After all, it's not every day you find an artist with the same muse as yourself. This was his last chance. 

He couldn't revive the dancing demon alone. 


	2. My Dear Child

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Joey arrives home after his errands to cook lunch. After all, he's expecting a very special guest, a business partner, one might say.

Joey returned to his humble abode a little after twelve thirty. More than ready for lunch, he lugged his groceries into the kitchen and laid the bags out on the counter top to sort and put away. Milk and juice in the fridge, Italian bread on the countertop by the oven, chocolate in the cupboard with the flour and sugar, cans of beans and tomatoes went in the corner cabinet, the one with the Lazy Susan. 

Pfft, Lazy Susan, what a marvelous contraption. But Susan wasn’t lazy, oh no, she was quite a gal, an ingenious invention really. She spun the cans and other goods around so they were easier to reach, so nothing got caught in the back of the cabinet. If only her axel hadn’t gotten so bent out of shape, she was almost perfect, just slightly flawed. But still Joey kept the thing as it was. It was an excellent storage space after all, perfect for holding his favorite soups.

He retrieved an older can of crushed tomatoes from the back and a pot from the bottom drawer, under the stove. He began his work at making lunch, whistling while he prepped the ingredients. Carrots and celery were chopped, beans were washed, and cans were emptied into the pot. A pan sizzled behind him, engulfing the kitchen in a smoky, cherrywood aroma. 

“Ooooh, is that bacon I smell darling?”

That was enough to summon her. A shadow seeped into the kitchen from the filing room, a burnt smog that leaned against the doorway. It was quick to take a shape, curving into the figure of a young woman. Her hair floated behind her as she walked towards the man, a wispy ponytail as dark as midnight. It complimented her caramel skin, which was dotted with sparse, star-like freckles. While her makeup suggested a seductive personality, with full eyelashes and luscious lips, her pumpkin eyes showed delight and playfulness. But most intriguing were the graceful arcs of the sheep horns jutting out of her skull. Yes, she was an ethereal beauty, clad in a charcoal dress that was more fitting for a flapper than it was a demonic entity. 

“Ah, Belphene, good to see you.” 

Joey smiled at the sight of her. He latched onto his cane and hobbled over to the demon, who was quick to embrace him in a tender hug. She left a small peck on his forehead, not a hard feat given she was far taller than him. They both chuckled. 

“A pleasure to see you as well Mr. Drew. I take it things have been going well lately?” Belphene asked. 

“They’ve been alright. Had a little accident this morning, but let me tell you, it was a wonderful discovery. I think we may have a new contract to negotiate my dear.” 

Joey beamed with excitement at the notion before heading back to his spot in the kitchen to flip the bacon. Belphene took a seat at the table, one leg crossed over the other as she stroked her chin in thought. 

“Oooh, a new project? Sounds delicious.” She licked her lips, her tongue crossing over her fangs. “You do plan on paying me a lot sooner for this one, don’t you Drewby?”

Joey stirred his pot and banged the spoon on the rim to rid it of the excess. “Of course. I’ve kept you waiting far too long on the first few, this will be a much quicker deal. After all, it involves bringing in a new business partner.” 

Belphene couldn’t help but perk up at that. “A new partner you say? Praytell, who is it you want to bring into our little agreement? That’s so unlike you.” 

Joey turned to her, his face beaming. “A brilliant young man from the local cinema, Bryan Ewe. He seemed to be a custodian at first, but mark my words, that lad is an artist! He’s exactly the kind of fellow I need to carry on the JDS legacy.” 

“That old talk again?” She shook her head and stifled a giggle. “Come on now Mr. Drew, you’ve already been immortalized among the greats. Why, I promised your work would be remembered throughout animation history, enjoyed by thousands. What more of a legacy could you possibly have?” 

“One where Bendy doesn’t get halted in production.” 

Joey finished adding the ingredients and turned the burner down to a simmer. He hurried to Belphene’s side and gripped her clawed hands in his, so soft and calloused from years of work. 

“I have to show you, you must see their work for yourself.” 

The demon laughed. “Alright, alright, settle down silly. So long as my lunch isn’t burnt, I’m willing to look, just this once.” 

Belphene brought him into the chair next to her and pulled them close together. She placed her forehead against his. Both closed their eyes. He smiled, recalling the wonderful memory of this morning.

The ambulance sirens were just as real as they were in the moment. Through his mind’s eye, she could see it just as he did, the poor fella stuck on the pavement, so small and yet so brave. And then she saw his sketchbook. She grinned in delight. The inside cover was littered with Bendy’s visage. The demon ran, jumped, and danced all over the page, combined with several more cartoons. Alice, Boris, each and every face of the Butcher Gang. Even the background characters made an appearance, along with several that had to be of his own creation. But then something caught her attention, something that made her heart heavy. A crumpled photograph that had been carefully glued in the middle, a man with a sickly face stared back at them, a small child in his arms. Both looked so happy.

The caption read as follows: 

“To my dearest child: 

May the road you travel on be as kind as you are. 

May your path never be lonely as you greet the world. 

I have utmost faith in your journey,

You will find your masterpiece. 

As Cherie would say, encuentra tu felicidad.

We all believe in you.

Love,

Dad.”

But underneath, something else was scribbled in cursive.

“In Memory of Mark Ewe.”

Belphene gently separated her forehead from Joey’s. Her heart was filled with grief. It was clear the years had been smudged out, but it looked as though Mark had died fairly recently. 

“Joey, are you sure about this?”

“Of course! Why wouldn’t I be? They draw beautifully, more than well enough for what we need.” 

Belphene played with her hair as she spoke. “You’re...planning on saddling an orphan with the studio. A young orphan. And if I’m understanding this correctly...you wish for them to take your place once your time is up. Right?”

Joey nodded. “I know for certain they’re the right hands to leave this in. Something about them just calls to me Belphy, he’s the one, he’s got to be!” He turned and hurried back to his stove to take off the soup. “Besides, they seem nice enough. I’m sure he’d provide enough sustenance for you to last a long time.” 

Belphene sighed. “I know you mean well Mr. Drew, really I do. I’m sure they’re wonderful, but we can’t be so rash this time. After what happened with-” 

“Don’t you speak of that.” He interrupted. His eyes were cold as he looked back at the demon. “I get it, it was a horrible mistake to let  _ him  _ in on the deal, it’s not my fault he changed.” He glared down at the pot, gripping the sides of the counter to keep himself upright. He whispered through gritted teeth. “He stopped being the man I knew, stopped being dependable...” 

But he turned back to her, cheery as ever. “But this will be different! We’ve learned from our past mistakes. I’m certain Mr. Ewe will be just fine, but we’ll make sure to test him before pulling out any strings.” 

Joey finished up the soup and brought the pot to the table, while Belphene grabbed a few bowls and spoons from the cupboard. Both sat themselves down once the table was set. A prayer to the unholy Lucifer was said before either one took a bite. Belphene was the first to raise the spoon to her mouth, not bothering to blow on it. 

“Excellent work as usual sir.” She smiled appreciatively.

Mr. Drew bowed his head. “My pleasure milady.” He stirred his bowl a little while she ate. “But back on the subject, I do need to scrounge up some funds to take them to dinner. If I’m to interview the boy for the position, it must be done right.”

Belphene took another slurp of her soup. “Where were you thinking?”

“Marianno’s, the pizzeria on Brecken, it’s right where they live apparently. After what that snotty teenager at the ticket booth told me, I’m willing to bet they don’t go there often, probably can barely afford the rent in that district.” Joey rolled his eyes, irritated to the point of hypocrisy.

“How dreadful,” the demon pouted, “A shame the angels can’t be bothered to pity them. So much for guarding those that need it.” 

“It really is. I doubt I ever had one watching over me.” He yawned in the most joking manner he could manage. “But I’m glad none of them ever wasted my time, otherwise I wouldn’t have you.”

“Aw, Drewby, you flatter me.~” She giggled as she stirred her spoon, fishing for some of the bacon bits. “Mari’s is a decent way to start I suppose, pizza is always a safe bet. Are you sure you’re okay with the price though? They’ve gotten outrageous, chargin’ way too much for a pie.” 

“You have a point.” Joey took another bite before tapping his chin. “Hmm. Would it be too soon to go to their house, maybe bring a home cooked meal? Or maybe invite them here?” 

“That’s pretty direct, maybe not the best method.” Belphene stroked her chin. “Hmm, perhaps we need something a tad more coincidental.” 

Joey snapped his fingers and leapt from his seat. “That’s it! Belphy you’re a genius!” He rushed to his filing room, slipping past his machine to get to the cork board. “We’ll string his destiny into mine, create a coincidence!” 

Belphene shook her head as she stood up, joining him in the cramped room. “Are you sure you want to use another string? You’ve only got so many left.”

He nodded frantically. “Of course! I’ve still got more than enough to piece things together later, it’ll be fine.” He grinned, it was far too wide for his face. “Pretty pleeeeease? Just this once?” 

“Alright you child.” She smirked and ruffled his hair. “Do you have a piece to connect them with?” 

Joey stopped dead in his tracks. The old man deflated, he hadn’t thought to grab a piece while he was out, it happened so fast. He racked his brain, trying to think of anything he could use to forge the connection. Belphene rolled her eyes, a knowing smile on her face. 

“Let me guess, you need me to go get one?” 

He was bashful as he looked up at her. “I-If it wouldn’t be too much trouble. I’m terribly sorry Belphene.”

She ruffled his hair and laughed. “Getting forgetful in your old age, aren’t you Drew? It’s alright, gives us a good chance to scope him out.” With a boop of her finger on his nose, she waltzed over to the doorway. “I’ll be back around dinner hour to put ‘Liza to bed. You be good now Mr. Drew, no causing trouble.” 

The last he heard of her was a gleeful cackle as she disappeared in a puff of smoke. Mr. Drew stroked his mustache, thinking nefarious things as he looked to the machine that rested on the floor of his filing room. He ran his hand over its rusty surface, contemplating his plans.

“Soon enough Henry, soon enough. You’ll see that I was right. And to think I get to use your hands to prove it. What wonderful irony, not even the writing department could come up with something that clever.” He chuckled. “Yes, this kid will do nicely. You’ll learn to love him I’m sure.” 

And with that, Joey scurried back to the kitchen. There was quite a mess to clean up, and he couldn’t have that. No, Eliza was coming over tonight, and he’d be damned if his niece had to live with such filth. Yes, time to scrub the dishes and bake those cookies. 

After all; sweets made her so happy. 


	3. The Intern and The Writer

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The poor worker Joey knocked over, how are they doing in the hospital? Best that the demon Belphene go check on them. Though she may be in for a surprise. After all, not all is as it seems in this silly little world, now is it?
> 
> Though speaking of silly, what might you see if you look at things in silly vision? How is Joey Drew Studios holding up at the moment? Not the business, no, that's been gone far too long. What's become of the world he created?

There are so many paths we could take, couldn’t we? So many perspectives I have the power to show you. But I must confess, it’s fun to leave you in the dark, wondering about what could be out there. I think it would be best if I directed you to the hospital though. That poor little worker could use some help, couldn’t they? 

Thankfully the nurses and doctors took good care of Bryan. Belphene took her time sneaking into the hospital, disguised as one of the staff members while things were milling about. But it certainly took a while to find her patient. Bryan was cooped up in a corner. His pillows were lumpy and poorly stuffed, his leg bound in a stiff cast, white as a ghost. His face was pale, his eyes closed, eyelashes delicately resting on his rounded cheeks. He was so distraught, and yet, so peaceful, just lying there. The doctors reviewed his charts, troubled by the results. Belphene kept herself busy attending to those that needed it, but she let her ears stay open. Their words floated over to her as though they hitched a ride on a breeze. 

“That was a nasty fall they took. Not likin’ these results Gerald.” 

“Bone got fractured in three different places, lucky it didn’t pierce the skin.” 

“You think she’ll recover?”

Wait, she?

“Not without a miracle Jim, we’ll be lucky if she ever walks again.” 

“Real shame, guess that theater is gonna need a new handyman.”

Belphene took another look at the fallen fellow with fresher eyes this time. How did she not see it before? No...how could Drew not have seen it? She finished up with laying a washcloth on another patient’s head before crossing the room to further inspect the situation. 

She came to the young lad’s side and watched the contour of his frame as he breathed quietly. High cheekbones, soft brown hair with bangs covering the eyebrows, and a sprinkling of freckles, as though they’d been kissed by a hundred tiny fairies. The hand that gripped the blanket was large, manly and worn, though the nails, while stained with ink, were well groomed, the cuticles were in mint condition. Far too many wrinkles graced them though, as though the life had been sucked out of them. Bags under their eyes told a tale of too many nights without decent sleep, staying way past their shift. And their ears, a small mole on the lobe, with a slight indent from how many times they’d worn clip on earrings, the mark left was unmistakable. Couldn’t have been high quality though, from all the green left behind. They were lucky not to have an infection. Their cheeks were still stained with tears. Were they the tears cried when meeting Joey, or new ones, Belphene didn’t know. How many breaks does one take while crying? How dehydrated must they be?

They quietly stirred, a sluggish groan escaping their tender lips. They slowly tried to get up, but Belpehene shushed them and told them to still. “You’re still healing my dear, easy. You poor fellow,” she cooed, “How do you feel?”

“Like my life just ended,” they replied gruffly. “I’m fine, just let me g-Ackhaugh!” They hit their chest a few times, a coughing fit erupting from their chest. Belphene took the water cup from beside their bed and offered it to them. They nodded thankfully, taking a sip and calming their aching chords. 

“I’m sorry,” Belphene started, “What exactly happened? To get you here?”

The lad wiped the water off their lips with their arm, rubbing their eyes. “Some clumsy old gentleman bumped into my ladder, knocked me over. It’s my own damn fault though, shoulda been more careful…” They coughed again. “Guess I gotta start lookin’ for work again, lord knows I’m outta the job now.” They sighed as they set the cup down, pulling the blanket over their head. 

Belphene’s lip stuck out as she looked upon them. That was a very convincing voice they put on, they did okay passing as a young man. But she wanted to know who was really underneath all this. Who was Bryan really?

The doctors came around with a clipboard full of papers. Their expressions were solemn. The lad looked at them. There was a strange sense of understanding in the room, they all seemed to know what was going on without saying a word. The doctors did stay for a minute to explain what the situation would be for the handyman. The lad cried. They had to operate, and even then the chances were slim that they’d ever walk properly again. 

“I’m sorry Miss Isabella...we’ll do the best we can.” Gerald and Jim walked away, leaving the girl alone with the nurse, just crying. There was nothing else she could do. Belphene went and refilled the water cup, dragging a stool with her to sit beside the patient. 

“Isabella?”

They hid their face behind two hands, giving a nod. “Y-yes m’am, that’s my name…”

“So then what’s all this I heard about a Bryan?” She asked. She cocked her head in curiosity, rubbing their back with as much comfort as she could muster. 

“B-bryan...Bryan is what they call me at work. No one would hire me as a woman, so I started dressin’ as a man. Mistah Jerome...h-he wasn’t too bad, a tough boss, but he never caught on. ‘Course now he’ll know, not that it matters.” She wiped at her eyes. “You ought to just put me to sleep like the vets do to dogs.” 

“Now don’t say that honey, that can’t be true. What about your poor family?”

“What family?” She scoffed. “Mom ran off to war and probably got shot in the noggin. Dad...dad’s dead. Has been for a year now.” She sniffled and rubbed at her face. “I haven’t got any siblings, my uncle Ernie has been missing for years, there’s nowhere left for me to go, nothing good left for me in this world. I may as well have died.” 

“I don’t believe that.” Belphene scooted her chair closer, her face soft but intense. “Everyone deserves to live, it’s one of the few things we as human beings can call our own. You’re filled with something special just like anybody else. That much I’m sure of.” 

Isabella shook her head and smirked. “You’re about as optimistic as a cartoon character miss, but you’re not changing my mind. I don’t deserve it.” 

“A cartoon character? Excuse you, I’m better. Who are you equating me to, Alice Angel?” Belphene smirked right back. 

There was something that lit up in the girl’s face. “Wait, you know Alice?” 

“‘Course I do, she’s quite a gal.” Belphene leaned in and whispered, her face rather coy about it all. “Though between you and me, I always liked the devil darlin’ better.”

Isabella chuckled. “Gosh that takes me back. Bendy was my childhood. God, Dad and I watched them every Saturday morning when we still lived with Uncle Ernie. Just him an’ I and the cartoon, in that beat up green recliner…” She hung her head for a moment. “I’d give anything to have those days back.”

“Anything?”

“Hmm?”

“Nothing dear, I didn’t say anything.” Belphene chuckled. “I know what you mean though. It was a joy working at that old studio, the people were so nice.”

“Wait, you WORKED there?!” She asked. “You worked for Joey Drew Studios? What was it like? Was it really as magical as it was in the paper?”

Belphene laughed, a tinkly sort of sound. “It was marvelous dear. It really was a place where dreams came true. From the animation department all the way to maintenance. I miss those days, Mister Drew was always smiling back then. Wish he’d smile like that now.” 

“You KNOW Joey Drew himself?” Her face was twisted. “He...doesn’t smile anymore? But...why?”

Belphene shook her head, holding her hands in her lap. “He’s so worn down these days with that project of his, animating frame by frame.” She smirked.

“Y-you mean, the final episode? The legendary last reel?” 

Belphene nodded. “I know, it sounds like such a silly rumor, but I assure you, it’s real. The last Bendy cartoon to ever be made, an homage to the team that made it such a success. There’s a piece of all of them in there, they were the heart of the studio after all.” 

Isabella’s eyes were so bright with wonder. Belphene knew in that moment that Drew had made the best possible decision, and at the same time, the worst. This was exactly the kind of apprentice he wanted, maybe even the one he needed. 

“But he’s gotta be an old fella by now, I mean the studio started up in ‘29, that’s crazy to think about.”

“That’s what worries me. He can’t get through more than a few frames without his arthritis killing him.” She sighed. “At this rate, it’ll never get done.”

“I’m awful sorry m’am, wish I could do somethin’ to help.” 

Belphene chuckled and booped her on the nose. “Weren’t you just saying how much you wanted to die? And now you’re telling me you’d like to go help Mr. Drew? See, you still have a place here.”

The patient turned away, shifting the covers in her embarrassment. A thud came quickly after. Both turned to look at the source of the noise. The handyman’s sketchbook had fallen to the floor. Belphene was quick to snatch it up and place it on the bed. Isabella was quicker to bring it into her arms. A treasure, it must be, to be worth holding so close. Belphene just kept smirking. 

“You’re an artist.”

“H-how-”

“It’s not hard to tell when you’ve worked with them for so long. I can see your spark dear. The real question is, how does it manifest?”

The girl gulped and quietly opened her book. And there it was, an exact match to what the demon had seen in Joey’s memories. Bendy, so many glorious images of the cartoons.

“May...may I please see more?” She asked gently. Bella nodded and handed the book over to her. 

It was breathtaking. Sure, there were faults and mistakes, but it was all so on-model. There was so much more than cartoons in there though. Rich landscapes in grayscale of another world, far away from our own, something out of a fairytale. There were people in there, memories of loved ones, memories of those left behind, those who were still trying to catch up. And in the corner of every page was an ongoing run cycle, of a little candle hopping along a path. 

“Who’s this little fellow? I quite like him.” The nurse inquired.

“Oh him? That’s Fiero.” Isabella chuckled. “He’s a waiter at a cafe, quite the charmer. He’s kinda old though, had him since I was a kid.” 

“So he’s your creation?” 

“Yeah, I guess so. Though some days I swear he’s got a mind of his own. He just comes to me so easily when working on him, like he’s...alive.” She held a hand over her heart. Something was sad in her eyes, despite such a nostalgic expression, but Belphene couldn’t pinpoint it. 

“I know how that feels. Our characters were the same way back then, they really do have a life of their own…” Belphene too had a dreamy look in her eyes, before snapping back to reality. “Tell you what dear, how about I get you and Mr. Drew introduced, once you’re released from the hospital? I know it’s not much, but I’m sure he’d be willing to connect you to someone in the industry.”

“Y-you really mean it?” Isabella looked ready to cry.

“Of course! You’ve clearly got the talent. With a clean portfolio, I’m sure we can help you get where you want to be.” She grinned and took the girl’s hands in hers, her squeeze tight but gentle. “You’re gonna make it Bella, I’m sure of it.” 

“Bella...I kinda like that.” The girl latched onto Belphene in a tight hug, tears fell on her shoulder. “Thank you,” she whispered, “thank the Lord, I’m not gonna die today.” 

Belphene sat there for a while with Bella. But eventually, she had to leave. 

“I gotta get going, need to stop by Drew’s house to deliver something. Say…” she said coyly, “Would you be willing to let me take one of your sketches with me? I think it’d brighten his day to see them.” 

Bella quickly flipped through her book to try and find one. She settled on one towards the middle, of Fiero serving Bendy an ice cream sundae. “Here, this is the happiest one I have.” She grinned and carefully tore it out, handing it to Belphene. “Thank you, Miss, um-”

“Farah dear, Miss Farah.” She chuckled. “It was wonderful to meet you Bella. I’ll come back as much as I can.” 

Bella smiled back and bowed her head. “Thanks, Miss Farah. Have a safe trip home, okay?”

“Of course my dear. Rest easy, I’ll see you again soon.” 

With the clack of her heels, she hurried out of the hospital and into the alleyway, holding the drawing in utter delight. Joey would be so pleased with her. This would make everything perfect, soon her contract would have its collection fulfilled. She was so hungry, it was about time for things to work out.

But that’s only one slice of reality, isn’t it? This is Joey’s story, isn’t it? Well no, but it could become a part of it, who’s to say? No, Joey’s story is still running on a loop. How many times has it gone through now? I’ve lost count. You ought to ask Henry if you want to know, he keeps track better than I do.

Speaking of which, best to check in on them, isn’t it? I’m sure you’ve been curious as to what’s going on in the studio. Well, you’re in luck, they’re at one of my favorite parts. 

Sammy Lawrence watched his prisoner intently, but it was quick to turn to boredom. He sighed and leaned against the wall. “It’s insufferable having to watch you sleep, you know that?” 

Of course, the form of Henry Stein couldn’t answer, he was, in fact, asleep while tied to his usual post. Practically had his name on it at this point, Sammy hadn’t had to tie anyone else up in a long time, but the knots were well memorized all the same. But that wasn’t who he was talking to. The room was supposed to be laid out a certain way, with just the two of them and a handful of available searchers at a set point. 

But today, a visitor had come to the sacrificial room. He leaned on the wall next to the sleeping old man, a look of disdain on his face. He was bizarre, but he fit the studio’s aesthetics quite well. His eye sockets glowed amber, ethereal in contrast to his human form. His frame was golden from head to toe, but translucent, incorporeal so to speak. His limbs all dripped, some with ink, otherwise with god knows what. It looked like honey, but Sammy was pretty sure it wasn’t, Joey had been too cruel to allow anything that sweet down here. Though Henry had always been a fan of Jack’s baklava at the holiday parties, so who knows? Maybe this was just more torture, a reminder of how very little humanity they had left…

“Sorry, can’t help it, Lawrence.” The figured replied. “If I could wake myself up, I would.” 

“Can’t you just possess your body or something?” 

“Pfft, I wish.” He groaned. “Look, I wish we could change this as much as anyone else. But any chance I had to change the loop is gone. The body’s on autopilot at this point, unless someone can put me back together.” 

“Oh beli-no, no, not that word.” Sammy rubbed his temples and took a deep breath. “What I meant is, I understand. I’m just sick of dying every single time we go through this song and dance. It's getting old and I just want it over with.”

“Oh come now, it’s not so bad. What, twice a cycle you get axed?”

“Three.” 

“Three times? But Tom and the devil only get you once each.” 

Sammy laughed at that, his tone dripping with cynicism. “Hell no. Demon gets me twice, you’re just never around to see it. It’s not like these things only happen when you’re in the vicinity Stein. We have a much lengthier script than you do.”

“Yikes, I’m sorry.” The golden specter winced, shaking his head. "I'm not really keen on seeing any of you dying anymore... it's awful."

"You're telling me." Sammy shuddered. "No idea how much longer your body will be out. Got any new questions this time?"

"You mean you don't want to talk about being sliced in the head?" He smirked. 

"Please," Sammy said in exasperation.

“Alright then. So, how is it you’re the only one who can see me? I figured more of you would’ve noticed that I’m here. I’ve tried talking to all of you, but you’re the only one to notice.” 

Sammy tapped the side of his mask. “I have the eyes for it, as ironic as that is. The others would think I was crazy if I told them though. Not that I’m not already the lunatic of this place.” He sighed and sat on the floor. “I was a musical genius, composing things in a quality far above my paygrade, and this is what he casts me as? A cult leader? The nerve.” He sunk his fist into his cheek, dripping slightly in frustration. “He made a fool of me, caused the pipe to burst on purpose and misdirect my passion. If we could just get whatever power he has on his side onto ours, give it something greater as an incentive, maybe we’d be released.”

“Easy there bud, that’s a pretty cultist-sounding thing to say.” The specter floated over and sat next to him, giving him a pat on the back. “The loop has been getting weaker over time. I may not be able to change it, but we’ve had a lot more moments where you guys break the script. We just need a bigger disturbance. A showstopper to give us a concrete ending.”

“I highly doubt we’ll get that Henry.” Sammy sighed and looked away. “There’s only one soul not accounted for down here. I’ve gone through every searcher, lost one, and cartoon, we know who’s missing for certain now. And once he's here, we’re done for. The last piece will be complete, the narrative fully realized. And with that...eternal prison.” Sammy held his knees to his chest. His form quivered, the ink beading and dripping as he shivered. “What did we do to deserve this…”

“Nothing. And I don’t understand why he thinks otherwise.” The specter clenched his fist, his grimace painfully squeezing his jaw. “I just want to go home. Linda, Eliza, how are they doing without me? How long has it been? My students, who’s teaching them without me there?” 

“Hmph. No one is so indispensable that they can’t be replaced. But I doubt your family would do that to you. They truly love you…” Sammy trailed off, his thoughts elsewhere for a moment before snapping back to reality. “We’re just lucky they’re where they belong and not here, I don’t think I could live with myself if Joey forced me to sacrifice any one of you…”

Henry shuddered at the thought. “H-he wouldn’t, no. H-he would never hurt Eliza like that. He loves her. He couldn’t, n-not-ack!”

He inhaled sharply, as though he’d been stabbed in the abdomen. But nothing had hit him, nor had either of them seen anything! And yet there it was, a gaping wound in his stomach, as though he’d been slashed with an ax, the honey-like sludge pouring from it like a waterfall. 

“No no, I need that!” He held her arms over the wound and squeezed, slowly suturing the exposed area. He winced and looked to Sammy, who didn’t seem to be paying any attention. No, Sammy, the Sammy he knew at least, wasn’t there anymore. He stood up and reached to get the ax in the corner, taking his position robotically in front of the body. Henry glared at his sleeping corpse, angry. 

“He made a cultist of you? Well, he made a puppet of me.” The specter stood up and looks to his hands. Sludge was still wet. Time to get to work then. He had to get to writing, maybe he could get the corpse to take longer this time, find a way out. He sighed at the thought. It was his body, his brain, his strong heart, but without a soul, it couldn’t figure out how to change things. He had to bring them together. He needed his body back, no matter how old and achy it was if he wanted a chance of setting things right. 

“I’ll get you out eventually Lawrence. Believe me, we’ll find a way out.” 

“There we go now, nice and tight. We wouldn’t our sheep roaming away now, would we?”

No, we wouldn’t. Drew didn’t want anyone leaving. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey folks! Sorry this took me so long to get to, it's been a rough time here and I've had a lot going on. But I'm happy to finally progress the plot a little bit! For those of you who read the old version of this fic, you probably saw this coming, but for those of you who are new here, it's my pleasure to introduce you to Bella Ewe! Yeah, that signature of B. Ewe? Her name has always been intended as Bella from the start, though unexpectedly, I decided it would be fitting for Belphene to "name" her so to speak. Though granted, if we get to any fun memory-filled chapters, you'll see there's more to the name than that. 
> 
> This chapter was extra fun to write because of this glimpse into the studio. That wasn't actually planned, it came to me on the fly this week, and I was like "darn it this is good, I need this in this chapter!" It's really fun to explore Henry in this way, it's part of my explanation for why he's so numb in-game to all the events that go down, he doesn't have the soul to react to them anymore. He's really fun to handle, and he ties into the double entendre meaning of this chapter's title. Let me know if you like the glimpses into the studio, I'd love to do a little more of that here and there, maybe have some Henry and Boris time together. As always, I love hearing from you guys, so if you've got any thoughts, anything you really liked or thought needed some polish, don't hesitate to let me know in the comments! ^^ Thanks so much for reading, hoping to write again soon. Though first, I owe Too Many Eyes a few more chapters.~


	4. The Animators’ Legacy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's important to pause and take in the atmosphere every so often. This chapter explores Henry's ghost contemplating his place in the studio, as well as the life he led up to the time Joey deceived him. He finds himself reminiscing on the past, and with the help of Boris, starts to uncover the path to a brighter future, as both find themselves faced with a new and terrifying reality. Joey Drew also finds himself seeking a future with his dear niece Eliza, and receives news from his demon that may complicate his goals.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> CONTENT WARNING: This chapter contains subjects such as death, sexism, emotional trauma, and brief instances of religion and spiritual beliefs. If these types of subjects are not for you, viewer discretion is advised. 
> 
> SPOILER WARNING: If you have not read the novel "Dreams Come to Life" by Adrienne Kress, be aware that this chapter, and all the ones that follow it contain SPOILERS for that book. I know, it's been more than half a year since the book released at the time of posting this, but it's still incredibly important to make this clear to all you lovely folks in the audience. I don't want one of my favorite novels getting ruined for you, so please, don't proceed further until you've sufficiently enjoyed that story first. Additionally, there are some brief allusions to Boris and the Dark Survival which just released this week (and consequently got me eager to write this chapter), so please, go enjoy that game first before delving into this chapter. 
> 
> Thank you so much, hope you enjoy!

#  **Chapter 4: The Animators’ Legacy**

Henry and Linda Stein had been very fortunate nine years ago, when they brought into the world the most beautiful of creations: a baby girl. Henry had known love for many characters, they were his first children, but Eliza, his beautiful, human daughter, was something else. And just like with Bendy, Boris, and Alice, he didn’t determine her destiny: she did. Her smiles, her laughter, her sweet little babbling when learning to talk, her first steps, and many falls, were all her own. She was always very assertive of herself. Both parents loved her dearly. 

Joey loved her dearly too. It had been years since Henry left the studio, things were still a mixed bag, but Henry had still invited Joey to her christening. Of course, Joey could only catch the tail end, but just holding her in his arms the one time, when she tugged on his mustache and laughed when he yelped, he fell in love with her charm. She was an angel, the most beautiful angel to ever be. Even Alice couldn’t compare. So naturally, she wanted her as his heir, with no one else to give his life’s work to. 

Henry had been gone since the child was six years old. Three years, without a father, and in some ways, without a mother. Linda had been hard at work, providing for their broken home alone. She prayed Henry would come back to her, that it was all some cruel lie, but both of them had attended his funeral, he was gone. That was his handsome face in the casket, taken from them far too soon. Most of his animation students had been in attendance. Professor Stein, the best teacher they’d ever had, a whole generation influenced by his brilliance. He was more than the man who created Bendy, he was more than a teacher, more than a father, more than a best friend. He was a legend. 

Joey remembered lurking in the room that day, trying to hide the cruel smirk on his face as he looked upon the body, leaving those lovely orange lilies for his old friend. “Fear not,” he’d said to Linda, “He was a good man, his soul must be in the most fitting place of all, nothing else would do for a man of his talent.”

Of course, you and I know where his soul ended up. 

The golden specter hadn’t always been a ghost: for several loops he’d been as human as one could be in the studio. But the ink, being exposed to it for so long, it had to do what it always did. It had to digest him. It ripped the most essential pieces from his soul, leaving a replica of his body running around to do the story’s bidding, but the soul to suffer in silence. No one could see him, nor hear him, nor could he pull them from their places. He tried, heaven knows he tried! He tried to hold Alice back before she could ever lay a finger on his poor wolf, but he was never successful. She always slipped away. Boris was always made into a monster. He always grieved. He tried to shake Allison into remembering, he tried to free Norman from the awful machine imprisoning his skull, but nothing worked, he always failed. He always would. He’d regained his free will far too late to be able to fix this broken world, and it stung. Like a gaping wound with citric acid left to fester in it. 

But now, things were different. A few loops ago, he discovered Sammy could see him. And if Sammy could see him, he had a chance. He just needed to free the music director from the hold of the loop. If he could set him free, then they could get to the others. No one had a tongue as sharp as Sammy’s, and when he remembered the truth, he could send anyone spiraling with it. His flock would listen to him, they’d build an army, and army of Lost Ones and Searchers and Butchers, all those afflicted by the ink, build a bridge to safely get themselves to the machine, and tame the Beast. And they’d stop the story. No more loops, no more roles, they’d stop it dead in its tracks and force THE END to be the end. They would be free. Joey would lose. 

He only had so much time to finish it though. He knew that. Joey had one more soul to imprison in here, and once they were in, the story would be properly written, and they’d all be puppets for eternity. Though was that really a threat at this point? He was already a puppet. One could argue he always had been, if Joey was pulling the strings. It was hard to say.

But there the specter was, in the third chapter of Joey's narrative, watching his body rest with Boris. He hadn't known Boris watched him in his sleep until his body and soul had split. It was charming, knowing the wolf cared for him just as much as it was the other way around, but it only made his fate that much more sad. Boris didn't seem to be as stuck as he was, he at least had a few patterns of activities within the safe house. But this loop, he saw something different. 

Never before had Boris pulled out a sketchbook.

Frankly, it was amazing to see the wolf drawing anything. Henry didn't think he could with those massive gloved hands. But there he was, and his work was...it was beautiful. One might've equated him to almost being a professional animator. There were so many doodles in his book: adventures with him and Bendy, Alice having a grand old time on stage, him and Edgar sharing a pie, but the most interesting one wasn't really a toon at all. That is to say, she was cartoony in style, but she felt...more real, than the others. It was difficult to describe. She felt like someone you'd run into on the street, someone that would help you if you took a dive on the sidewalk. She had big rosy cheeks bordered by soft curls, and cat-like glasses that shielded her sparkling eyes. There was a pen tucked behind each ear, and another tucked into her bun. Who needed that many pens? Then he remembered David doing the same thing when they first met. Joey always bought those cheap pens for lining, they exploded in his hair all the time. How they'd laugh about it. He missed Dave, it'd been forever since they'd seen each other. 

Henry hadn't thought about that in a while, all the old animators that worked here. He and Dave were most of the team in the early days, then there was Abby, who was the glorified coffee runner. But Henry knew better. He'd sneak her some animation work now and again, took the time to teach her everything she knew. And after the war happened, he remembered getting letters from her, letters about how she'd become the head of the department. Man, did that make him smile to see Joey finally giving the women a chance. Abby was such a bright light, such a great kid, even though she was far from being a kid anymore. If not for her, he may never have discovered his calling as a teacher. He'd done so well with that, lighting sparks in all of those kids. They'd all gone on to do wonderful things, several had worked under the greatest animation studios to ever be. A few had even made it to JDS and succeeded, though lord knew their hours were tough. 

He stopped and wondered for a moment: were they in here too? Sammy had said before that there was only one soul not accounted for, but what exactly did that mean? Did Joey have a hitlist, or was it more broad? Was...was everyone from the studio here, all the workers? Every single employee? Had he...had he killed Abby? Dave? His students too? Had he killed that kind old receptionist? Had he taken every last intern? All of them? There wasn't much that surprised the old man anymore, but that? That struck a nerve. He'd never seen any of them on his loops. Or had he? They could be anything! The searchers, the lost ones, the Butcher Gang? Anything! And that only made it worse, they could've died by his own hands and been none the wiser! His body dripped a little faster. Even though a ghost had no need for air, he was hyperventilating. 

"No! No I couldn't have, I-I don't want to-I never MEANT to! Joey why? WHY?" 

And that’s when he felt a hand on his shoulder.

“B-boris? But...how?”

The wolf gave him a knowing look. But at that moment, something was off. For once Boris...didn’t feel the way he usually felt. There was something pained in his pie cut eyes, something much deeper, and much more empathetic, than Henry had come to know. 

“H-how can you see me? I thought...I thought only Sammy could-”

Another hand gripped his shoulder. Boris shook his head. He was at a loss for words, not that he could say anything to begin with, but it looked like he wanted to. He looked down at the floor, where another message had been etched in gold. ‘I’m sorry buddy,’ it said. Boris seemed...hurt, by the sentiment. He let go of the specter’s shoulders and stood up, quietly tiptoeing past the old man’s animated corpse, to fetch something from his suitcase. What he pulled out left Henry confused.

It was a manuscript, one he handed to the ghost insistently. The ghost gingerly took it from his hands and looked at the first page. 

“Buddy...Buddy Lewek? Who’s that?” Henry asked. Boris looked back at him, his eyes narrowed and arms crossed. 

“Well what do you expect? Just because I worked here once doesn’t mean I know everyone who did, this fella was probably after my time.”

Boris held his head in his hand, exasperated. No monkeying around this time, he only had so long before the wolf woke up again. He struggled to flip the book to the last page, stabbing his finger insistently at the last few paragraphs. Henry read them. And he gasped, nearly dropping the manuscript before fumbling it back into his hands. 

“No way, so you’re...you’ve never been Boris, you’re...you’re Buddy? 

The wolf teetered his hand up and down like a see-saw, as if to say, “Sort of.”

Henry felt awful, why had he never found this manuscript before? Did Joey know it was here?

“How did you even write this with such big hands? How can you draw like that? Goodness, I’m so sorry, I did the glove thing to make animation easier, if I’d known this was gonna happen, I would’ve made something more function.” 

The wolf covered his mouth, slight wheezing escaped through the cracks. Was he trying to laugh? He’d never laughed the whole time Henry knew him. Boris had always been dull, but this character, Buddy, had a sense of humor, he was so animated! And that only made Henry love him more. The wolf took his sketchbook and flipped to a blank page. 

_“I question it too, don’t worry. I’m sorry we’ve never met before, I’ve been asleep for so long, Boris hasn’t let me remember in forever.”_

“Asleep? What do you mean asleep?”

_“Read the book. I can’t remember much anymore, but it’s all in there. Boris, he shares my head, but he’s not good at sharing.”_

“...Then why is he letting you talk now?”

_“Because Henry’s not here. He says he doesn’t wanna be here without him.”_

“But...but I’m Henry.” 

_“He doesn’t know that.”_ Buddy shook his head. _“But I’m not tellin’ him, I have to remember, I have to get out and find Dot!”_

“Dot? Who’s Dot?”

The wolf flipped the page over and pointed to the sketch of the girl again, the one with the glasses. “Dot” he wrote, right next to her portrait.”

“Oh Buddy...I don’t know where she is. I don’t know if you can even leave, I’m never able to without Boris with me.” 

_“Well that’s garbage!”_ He scribbled, _“Why can’t I go? Please, come with me, we’ll go together and find her! She’ll know how to fix this! She’s good at finding answers!”_

“Buddy, I...I don’t think she’s in here. I’ve been trapped in this studio on a cyclic nightmare for who knows how long, we all have. I’ve never seen her, not once. I get to the end of the story, just for it to repeat again, nothing ever changes.” 

_“Well I’m here now, that can’t be the same right? Please, help me Henry! I need to find her and turn off that machine!”_

That struck something. 

“I...I can’t.” 

_“Why-”_

Henry slammed his hand down on the table. “I can’t! I’m the idiot who was tricked into turning it on, there’s no way to access the controls now! It’s all the way at the top, and even if you did find a way, the demon would smother you!” He held his face in his hands, hopeless and dripping all over again. “There’s nothing I can do...nothing that can fix this.”

_“Henry please...I don’t know how much longer I’ll be myself. I have to try and do something.”_

“But why?”

_“Read the book. You’ll know exactly why. I still have a reason to have hope.”_

The wolf stood up from the table and went to the trunk under his hammock. He pulled it out and lifted the top, revealing a plethora of supplies inside. Clock pieces, radio parts, bones, wrenches, and a miner’s hat. 

“Buddy, what are you doing?!”

The wolf merely ignored him as he walked towards the door, the hat firmly on his head. If the specter wouldn’t help him, then he’d help himself. No way was he staying here. But the minute he tried to open the door, it all went to hell. A shimmery golden light burned him right off and sent him reeling back onto the floor. So he got up and tried again. Same result, he got fried and sent right back down. But he kept getting back up, banging against the door and struggling with all his might. 

The effort was futile.

“I told you, the loop won’t let us disobey, we’re stuck doing what Joey’s written for us…”

The wolf, no, Buddy, looked up at Henry, tears in his eyes. He rubbed at his face, trying to get them to stop falling, but they wouldn’t slow, they wouldn’t stop! He was bawling on the floor. He just wanted to go home! He wanted to see his mom, and his grandpa, and Dot and Jacob and all of them! But they were gone, they were probably long gone, his family probably was for as long as he’d been here. Jacob was dead, he knew he had to be. But Dot...Dot he had hoped for. 

And then it occurred to him. If he was a cartoon character...and he was still here...for a moment he had a glimpse back to that fateful day, his last day as a human. It brought him chills to think about it, but he had to, he had to remember. Jacob had sacrificed himself for them, he’d made sure he stayed unconscious so Dot and him wouldn’t get hurt. He’d been imprisoned in ink, so had Norman and Dave...Maybe...maybe he was still down here. Maybe all of them were. Norman, yes, Norman knew everything about the studio! If he could find Norman, or a piece of him, maybe they could figure it out! He scurried back to the desk. 

_“Okay, I can’t leave, but that’s not gonna stop me! When the next story beat comes, I need you to stay with me, okay?”_

“What? What are you talking about-”

_“Stay with me. If the story has repeated that much, you can help me, we’ll see just how much we can break it before I’m forced back again.”_

“Why? What are you trying to accomplish here?”

_“I have some friends, from back when this whole thing happened. If I can find them, maybe we can get their help. Please, I need to find them.”_

Henry was reluctant to reply. How long before Buddy was gone again? How long before Boris was back? Why was there such a breach in the first place? Did he do this? Was his spirit messing with the story? 

Could that...could that be enough to fix things? It was worth a shot. He’d have to try. If they just pushed a little, it could move mountains. He’d just have to be careful.

“Alright, I’m in. Let me get through as much of your book before he wakes up, then we’ll figure this out.”

Buddy threw his hands up in the air in a silent cheer, celebrating their teamwork before hugging the ghost tightly. Henry chuckled and ruffled up what little fur was on his head. 

“Alright kiddo, you go get used to moving around, enjoy your mind while you’ve still got it. I’ve got some catching up to do.”

_“You’ve got it Henry!”_

Little did Henry know what kind of horrors awaited him in those pages.

___

He wasn’t the only one reading tonight. Inside the Drew apartment, a little girl with long caramel hair was resting against her uncle’s shoulder, as he read to her a lovely little tale about a dancing demon building a snowman. Not to toot his own horn, but Drew had squeezed a lot of profit out of his shorts, taking the best frames and putting them into picture books for the children. Bendy’s tales had charmed his niece for a long time. Eliza always asked for them on the nights when she missed her father most. 

“Uncle Joey?” She rubbed her eyes and leaned on him even more.

“Yes my angel?”

“Is Daddy with all his friends in heaven?”

“His friends?” Joey asked.

Eliza nodded, yawning again. “Does he get to visit Bendy and Alice, and -yawn- Boris too?”

“Oh I’m sure they’re taking good care of him up there my dear. Boris is a loyal wolf, your father could always count on him for a good laugh.” He said tenderly.

“I’m glad,” Eliza closed her eyes, warm against his side. “He shouldn’t have to be alone up there.” 

Joey felt a pang of guilt for that. He knew why she was worried about Henry’s loneliness. She was lonely without him, he’d never been enough to fill that space in her heart, to be her real parent. His jealousy only grew. But soon it wouldn’t matter, soon she’d be his, and she would love him more than she ever had Henry. She wouldn’t be alone, they’d have a family again, a loving, robust family with a legacy the world would remember. 

Belphene sat at the foot of the bed, smiling softly at the child. “Now now princess, time for you to head off to the land of sugarplums.” 

The demon and Mr. Drew got up, carefully adjusting the tiny girl to lay on the pillow, a plush wolf secured in her arms, held onto so tightly that it had no hope of going anywhere. Joey smiled and left a kiss on her brow. 

“Goodnight darling, sweet dreams.”

“Goodnight Uncle Joey, g’night Miss Belphy…” No sooner had she rolled over, then she was out like a light. A perk of having a demon as your assistant babysitter, very sound sleep. 

The two stepped out and sat at Joey’s table. Belphene marveled at the arts and crafts that were left behind. Eliza was getting so much better, her pictures were delightful, worthy of hanging on the fridge for sure. 

“So, how did things go today? Did you find him?” Mr. Drew inquired. 

“Splendidly sire. You found yourself quite a lucky catch, she’ll be perfect for the job.” She snapped her fingers and reached into a void, as though it were a deep pocket, before pulling out a piece of paper and handing it to the gentleman. “They were quick to give me the proper piece, we can absolutely work with this.” She opted to let him review the illustration while she put the kettle on, ready for some nice hot chocolate after a long day’s work. 

“My goodness, he’s a marvel! Just look at this crisp linework, the forms! This will be perfect, the perfect replacement! Belphene you’ve outdone yourself, brava, brava!” He grinned over the piece, admiring how wonderfully Bendy was drawn here, so happy consuming that lovely ice cream sundae. It made him hungry just looking at it. It was made with such love, you could just tell from how carefully it was all handled, time was taken to make it perfect. 

Belphene smiled, but it was quick to falter. “There’s just, one thing Mister Drew. They’re um...well, you really shouldn’t call them a ‘he.’”

“Praytell, why not? They were a strapping young lad, just like I was back in the day!”

“Mister Drew...Bryan’s real name isn’t Bryan.”

“Then what is it? It’s probably something far fancier, isn’t it? Like Horatio, or or Augustus or-”

“Bella.”

“...What?”

“Her name is Bella.”

“Bella...Bella? But then...that means…”

“Yes, I know. It’s not what you’d planned on, but-”

“It’s not a perfect match then. Would Henry even be okay with that?”

Belphene scrunched her nose at that. What a stupid notion, Joey hadn’t cared what Henry thought since they were children. He knew what the old man was getting at, and it was frankly disgusting. 

“You shouldn’t let something as insignificant as genitalia get in the way of your plans, Master. She’s got the skills you want, that’s what’s important.”

“I know, I know Belphene, that’s the important piece. I just worry, with how time has progressed, will anyone take an animation company seriously with a woman as a lead animator?”

“Why wouldn’t they? You didn’t get any flack for Lambert.”

“Most people didn’t know about Lambert, the credits never displayed her name that way.” He sighed. “Well at least they sign their work as Bryan, maybe she’ll be willing to continue.”

Belphene was saddened by that. Her contractor had always been stubborn, but this was ridiculous, even for him. Some days she wondered if he took her seriously, if he would’ve handled their contract differently if she’d been more masculine. But that wasn’t important right now. She’d find a way to let Bella be herself in all this. It’s what...Henry would want. Why should she care what Henry would want? Maybe it was because...she wanted it too. But there were reasons for her to care. Lots of reasons. 

It’s always dangerous when a demon cares.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading! I hope you enjoyed this chapter, and I'm super eager to hear what you thought of it in the comments! So, how about those glimpses into the studio huh? I know, it's crazy, revealing Boris' identity when it's only the fourth chapter, integrating that much of the DCTL content out of the blue, but sometimes the story takes control and goes to places I didn't expect it too. It's a joy when that happens! I try to do a fair amount of planning for the major story beats, but there's a lot of in-between stuff leading up to it that happens on the fly, and sometimes I'll roll with it. Like the draft for this chapter and the last? When I went to handwrite it (because surprise, I physically write this stuff in a notebook before revising as I type it up), I actually had a scene of Eliza and Joey having a conversation in the kitchen, but when it started going in a direction that would've had them learn things too soon, I had to cut it, and that left me lost for where to go. I've found that I love the magical side of this enough that it's worthwhile to glimpse into the studio more than I was in previous chapters. I like playing in there, anything is possible, even with the set of rules in place. 
> 
> I'm sure I'm going to get some people that are a little frustrated with the ending of this chapter, so it's best I address it now. It was implied enough that Joey was somewhat sexist, or at least didn't take his female staff as seriously within the first Bendy novel. At least, that's how I interpreted it on my first reading, I could be totally wrong on this in terms of canon, but it's important to note that this is a detail in my interpretation for this fic. I'm leaning towards the idea of 'he doesn't take women as seriously as he takes men,' but I am gonna give him some room to grow and change in his mindset. After all, just like any human being, he doesn't have to stay the same forever, but that's if he chooses to change. He's a fictional character with his own way of thinking, and he does not reflect my personal beliefs, as I find sexism to be horrible. No one is any more or less capable of greatness as a result of their gender/gender identity. What I am gonna say is that there's a reason Joey is looking for a male artist in this case, I can't spoil what it is yet, but you'll find out in due time. This change in my plans is also going to add some stress to his relationship with Belphene, which is going to be useful for future chapters. 
> 
> As for the next chapters, hopefully we'll get to have a bit of cartoony fun soon. You didn't think I was gonna leave out the real toons, did you? We haven't even started to unpack the craziness they're dealing with right now. Hopefully, you'll have as much fun reading it as I do writing! ^^ Here's wishing you all a wonderful day, don't let the ink demon bite!


	5. Breaking the Habit, Starting a Journey, Dreaming of You

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When there's a dream to be had, there's a demon to dance in it. Bendy meets the next victim of Joey Drew's and starts to uncover more of the mystery as to what he's planning on doing this time.

#  **Chapter 5: Breaking the Habit, Starting a Journey, Dreaming of You**

It's extremely dangerous when a demon cares. 

Belphene visited the hospital thrice more, carefully planning out the meeting with Bella for Mister Drew. And every time she arrived, she came bearing gifts. "Compliments from the man himself," she'd said. Of course, she had a hard time getting the girl to accept them. You wouldn't think it'd be so hard, getting an artist to keep a new set of pencils and liners, or a little Bendy plush to keep her company, but it was. 

"I never thought I'd see one of these in person." Bella chuckled as she held the stuffed demon to her chest. "Dad and I were so poor back then, we barely had enough to keep the clothes on our backs. I remember old Ms. Cherie who worked at the library, she helped me scrap together fabrics out of the lost and found to make an Edgar of my own. Taught me how to sew." She sighed. "She was the mother I never had. I hope she's doing alright."

"You should stop by and see her once you're better. I'm sure she'd be worried sick about you." Belphene replied. There was a pout on her puffy lips, one of genuine sadness for as fake as it looked. 

The more she talked with Bella, the worse she felt about what was going to happen. This child really had nothing. No friends save for a fella named Carmen who ran off to try working for Disney, no family save for the librarian who loved her like a daughter. No hopes for anything, not even being treated decently. She'd been trained her whole life to accept disappointment and carry on, what a sad fate that was. Belphene felt her heart clouding her judgment. She knew she couldn't disobey the orders she'd been given, but she didn't want to do this. She didn't want this child to be used as a pawn any longer. There had to be another way, a way to mend her broken heart, to make her human again. How could she possibly be human with a heart that loving, yet never loved back? How could she be human when she was treated as so much less than one? 

Belphene wondered that often. She wondered that about a lot of humans, they were so good inside compared to the scum she met in hell. So hard to sway, unlike the countless mortals she'd had to tempt to Satan's side. She'd wondered about demons too, why they were made to be so cruel. Why was she made to hurt people? At least one demon she knew wasn't made that way. No, he was made to entertain, to love and be loved. And right now, she needed his aid. 

Belphene rose from her spot and packed up her purse. "I'd best be on my way, duty calls. You'll be alright darling?" 

"I'm always better knowing I'll see you again." Bella hugged the doll closer and smiled from where she laid on the bed. "Promise you'll stop by again soon?" 

"I wouldn't miss it for the world jingle bells." She smiled and gave a wink to the demon in her arms. "Now take care of her dear, don't let me find that you were slacking." 

Bella giggled as Belphene hurried off. She laid down with the plush in her arms, dozing off to sleep in a playful little Dreamland. 

What she didn't see was that the demon in her arms had winked back. 

\---

Belphene had definitely let her morals get to her, or else she wouldn't have asked this one for help earlier. 

"You'll look after her while I'm gone?"

"Sure thing toots. As long as I'm the devil darlin', you can count on me. No worrying that pretty little head of yours."

She'd laughed. "Gosh you're insufferable. How do Alice and Boris put up with it?"

"Beats me, in theory I'm their personal nuisance!" Bendy laughed at that, clutching his stomach and wiping a tear from his eye. But he was quick to grow somber. "Hey, thanks for takin' over for a bit and givin' me some fresh air. I know our amigo José wouldn't approve but-"

"No need, I-I need some time off too."

"I know, I know. I'm just...I'm glad you were willing to let me run free for a bit. It gets tiring being a monster. I don't...I don't like it." 

Belphene knelt down and held the tiny demon in her arms, squeezing so tightly to try and stop herself from trembling. "I know...I don't want this either."

"But remember, we're not monsters. We...we just play them on TV." Bendy hugged the taller demon back, keeping composed just a little bit better than she had. "So you want me to get to know her huh? Take her for a spin on a dream ride?"

"Please. She needs a sweeter dream. If Drew is really going to force her into this, I want to make sure you at least like her. You know how important that bond is." 

"I don't think I'll mind her any. She's already drawn me so much, I can feel all that love she's got. It's so tasty." He chuckled and held her a little longer. "She'll keep us both sustained for a long time…maybe enough so that you can finally move on, find a new contractor." 

Belphene pulled back and gently grasped his shoulders. Her pumpkin eyes were filled with tears. "I can't just leave you alone. W-we promised to stick together, from the day I brought you off the page!"

"Yeah, but bein' here makes ya miserable…" Bendy brushed a lock of her hair behind her ear. "Toots... it's okay. One day, you deserve to have some freedom. Don't hesitate to take it. Explore the world, climb da Eiffel Towah, I'll be here waiting to hear all about it." He smiled, those eight pearly whites filled with so much sincerity. "We'll be free one day. The next one won't be like Joey, he can't last forever." 

"Y-you're right... he's only a mortal." She stood up and dusted herself off. "I'll keep Henry occupied for a while, you take care of her. Tell the others they're welcome to join you." 

Bendy nodded, taking a bow. "As ya wish beautiful.~ Don't rough him up too bad."

"I won't, promise."

Belphene waved goodbye and ran back into the void of the ink, hurrying into the domain of the studio. And once again, the ink demon stood tall and menacing in the silence of Heavenly Toys. She growled and proceeded to tear the room apart. No going after Henry yet. She had a fire to get out of her system.

\---

Bendy meanwhile meandered his way through the river of sepia. Swimming along, he admired the realm into which he'd been thrust. It was so vague, so abstract, but also dark. What a lonely dream, he thought to himself, what a lonely person, not utilizing their full canvas like that. 

"She must not know how to dream big anymore. Well, we can fix that. I'll give her the best night of her life, the Belle of the ball!" He grinned and hurried forward, struggling to find her in the massive splotch of darkness.

Eventually, he stumbled upon the young lady, dressed in her cap and a stained apron, her freckles popping as she worked on sketching something. It was a quiet little place, a patch of grass just big enough for her to sit on, her pencils held by the lavender that grew beside her. And in her book, she drew. She drew beautiful things, everything she could possibly want, which wasn't much. But then she heard Bendy's splashing and looked up to see the little demon that popped out of the babbling brook. She giggled and waved, gesturing for him to come over. 

"Bendy! Oh, it's so good to see you, would you care for a picnic?" She smiled, what a lovely young smile she had. Her eyes glistened with starlight. 

Bendy nodded and bounded on over, tipping an imaginary hat as he took a seat beside her. "On this fine day? Wouldn't miss it foh the world dollface. So whatcha up to, what's the artwork today?"

"I thought you'd never ask!" She laughed and plucked an ink pen from behind her ear. And as she traced the outlines of her image, the world came to life, colorful and free. They were in the town park, sitting under a shady apple tree on a small hill, watching the children play on the playground below. Not too far away, there was a young man, maybe in his 30s, sitting on a bench, who was also drawing. He had golden-brown hair, like the color of a freshly fried hash brown, and amber eyes that sparkled as they reflected the blues of the clearest sky. So few clouds today, just enough to guess what kinds of shapes they were. The man had some wrinkles in his worn hands, so strong yet so delicate with his tool. Bendy felt off, there was something familiar about him, but he couldn't place what. 

Not far from the man was a father and his daughter, sitting on a picnic blanket, enjoying some cut up carrots and tiny cupcakes together. The man was so young, he had to be new at this fathering thing, but his touch with the girl made him seem so expert. The child looked like a pixie, with her hair in those springy pigtails, running around barefoot in her little sundress. She was beyond adorable. Occasionally she ran too far and got caught by the man on the bench. He would chuckle and shake his head, then get back to his work, glancing up at her every few moments. Eventually, the babe caught notice of this and quietly scrambled to pry her way up the bench. The man smiled and gave her a little boost. 

"Well hello there." He'd said. The girl quietly crawled over. She was so quiet now, too quiet for a four-year-old. Her father came running over. 

"I'm so sorry sir. Dizzy Izzy, we should let this nice fellow draw in peace for a bit-"

"Oh no, it's quite alright. Your daughter is a phenomenal model, I think she gave me just what I needed for this piece." He gave her a wink. "Wanna see?" 

The tiny tot nodded excitedly and hurried to get closer. The man held up his sketchbook for her to see. 

"Hey, what's in there?" Bendy asked. 

He left the artist's side for a moment to get a little closer. And once he saw the page, he was left in awe. There was the most beautiful sketch he'd ever seen of Alice, frolicking in a field of flowers, with the demon himself running after her. Boris sat on a picnic blanket, enjoying a comically large submarine sandwich. The perfect summer afternoon, just games and fun, the way it was supposed to be. 

Bendy felt a tear in his eye.  _ He remembered this.  _ This was  _ that _ day, the day where he watched Henry playing in the park. He looked to the little girl, with those rosy cheeks and an abundance of freckles.

"Benny! Benny Benny Benny! An' Allie and Bowis too!" 

Her father and the man couldn't help themselves, they laughed, holding their stomachs as though they'd burst at the seams. The father picked up the girl and spun her around, tickling her tummy and blowing her a raspberry before settling down. They all laughed. "That's right! That's Bendy alright. Sir, your drawings are extraordinary, where did you learn to sketch like that."

The man, no,  _ Henry,  _ chuckled. "Been doin' it since I could pick up a pencil. I know a few fellas who work at the studio, good folks. Picked up a thing or two about drawing these guys from them. I take it you know the show?"

"Of course! We don't get great service, but a friend lets us watch Bendy every Saturday morning. Ain't that right Isabelle?"

"Benny! Benny dances!" She squirmed a little in her pop's arms, wiggling her feet like a tap dancer. 

"Well I'm glad to hear," Henry replied. He had an old look in his eyes, the look of a father who was proud of his kid's accomplishments. "The folks working on that cartoon are good people, they'd be honored to hear you love their work. I'm sure Bendy would thank you too." He smiled before closing the book. "Say, how do you like chalk? Care to draw on the sidewalk with me?" 

The girl, now finally allowed on the ground, hopped up and down excitedly, her pigtails bouncing. "Yes please, sir!"

Henry laughed again. "Alright. Let's go make a masterpiece!" 

And so the three of them headed over to the sidewalk that led to the fountain in the park, and they drew. Bendy remembered that day. He'd remembered the kids that passed by, how they laughed, how happy they were to see his visage. He watched them all day, performing just for him and his toons. Alice had been so happy back then, and Boris was delighted that so many people drew treats near his chalky face. Even the butchers had been invited. That was the best thing about being a cartoon. Sure, you got to have many adventures on the screen when you were called to, but every time their faces were drawn, they could see the artist smiling back at them. And seeing those kids, seeing how loved they were, it made all the difference. They were happy. Bendy loved those kids. They made everything they touched beautiful.

He felt a hand on his shoulder. He looked up to see Bella smiling at the scene too, tears in her eyes. "That was the happiest day of my life. Dad and I were outside for hours. The artist was the nicest person in the whole world, I don't think I'd have started drawing if not for him." 

Bendy looked at her, wide-eyed and surprised. "Really now?"

"Yeah, just look." She gestured towards the girl and the artist, sketching together in the chalk. He guided her on some of the linework, getting the right circle and horns for his demon. 

Bendy felt tears in his eyes. "Thank ya toots. I… I'd nearly forgotten about this. Henry, he…"

"Henry? You mean the creator of the show?" Bella raised an eyebrow. "You know who made you?"

"Well sure, what self-respecting cartoon doesn't?" He chuckled sadly, rubbing at his pie cut eyes. "You gave my old man so much to be happy about that day. He hadn't had that much fun drawing us in so long." 

"Wait, THAT'S Henry? The legendary Henry?" The artist stumbled a little, holding a hand over her mouth. "No way, I met the head animator when I was a kid, and I didn't even know it?" 

"Yep, you nailed it toots. He was just starting to look for another job at this point, got sick of the deadlines. After that, I watched him become the best professor this town has ever seen. I mean just look at how well he's doin' with the tots, that's a man who loves to make magic." Bendy chuckled, leaning on an invisible cane as he watched it all play out. “This is what we lived for, making the world beautiful again.” 

Bella held her sketchbook close to her chest as she gazed upon the scene. “He made everything he touched into a masterpiece...He gave me hope that I could make anything I set my mind to.”

“Well it’s the truth. You can! Anyone can if they just believe in it, ya know?” Bendy took her hand and held it tightly in his own. “And I’ve seen you, I know your work. You made Fiero, didn’t ya? That took a lot of love dollface.”   
  
“You...you know my candle?”    
  
“Of course I do! Toons can see everything through the page, we know who’s drawn us and why. Fiero has always been kind to me behind the scenes. I can feel your love through him. It’s such a bright light, so polite.” He squeezed her hand a little more. “Don’t ever lose that light, okay? It will save you when you need it most.”    
  
Bella shook her head and chuckled, squeezing back. Her eyes had a few tears pricking at them. “It’s so funny you say that, so...so ironic. I haven’t felt hopeful in so long, not since Miss Farah stopped in.”    
  
“Believe me toots, she’s good news to have around, but be careful. There are real demons everywhere you go, and it’s best not to make deals with them.” Bendy had a somber look in his pie cut eyes. “You’re such a good kid, I’d hate to see something bad happen to you.”    
  
“I think I’ll be okay. She’s been so kind to me in the hospital, tells me I’ll be free to go soon. I’m gonna go home, it’s finally getting better.” She hugged her book like an old friend as they both gazed at the man drawing with chalk. “One day, I’m gonna be like him, and make all of those childhood dreams come to life. I’ll make worlds that people can explore to their heart’s content, and it’ll be beautiful.” 

Bendy could see that gentle fire in her eyes. It glowed with light from deep within her heart, a light that burned for something brighter, something loving. She slipped her book into her apron pocket and took his hand. “Would you care to dance with me for a while?” 

Bendy froze at that. “A dance? With me? Why I haven’t had anyone ask in forever! Toots, you just made my day, of course, I accept!” He gave a small wink before letting go. “But first, how about a change of scenery! Get drawin’ honey, because we need ourselves a stage!”

Bella grinned and ran out to the edge of the scene, her pen in hand and ready to go. With broad strokes and vast scribbles, she quickly got the world to change around them. Green fields and tall trees turned to wooden floorboards and velvet red curtains, with stage wings left empty for more folks to join in. 

Bendy watched as the image of the memory faded away, almost sad he had to go. But as he looked at Henry one last time, their eyes made contact. How amber they were, how they stared right through his lack of a soul.  _ How they could see what never should have been seen. The specter knew now, knew something he wasn't supposed to. How careless, how careless indeed. _

Bendy winced and ran away from the image of the ghost, he felt his breath go sharp as he faded away. He felt lucky knowing that Bella hadn't noticed. Those two shouldn't meet again. 

The girl had nearly finished her set when she thought of something. "Are you gonna be okay to dance with me? I know I'm pretty short, but I'm still a lot taller than you."

Bendy rubbed his chin in thought for a moment. He hadn't really considered that, but then again, he was a cartoon, who needed regular logic when your world had its own brand of it? "Ya know toots, I think I might have an answer. Take me to my dressing room please!" 

Bella giggled and drew him up a quick door. He stumbled on through it, a few cartoony noises of metal clanking and crashes and rips sounded off before he came tumbling back out. 

And what a handsome fella he was! He'd argue he was always handsome if he were here, but to see the devil darling all gussied up in a suit and tap shoes, with a top hat on his brow? Truly extraordinary. But his outfit was only the beginning. He'd grown taller! Just a few inches over the girl at five foot five. His legs were slender and prone to wiggle like Jell-O, yet he retained such grace as he bowed to her. 

"Aw come on cutes, you're missing your dancing boots! Come on, dance with me here!"

"Frank Sinatra, really? Oh, you know me too well!" She laughed and bounded over, giving a little twirl before taking his hand. He grinned, that charming devilish grin, and spun her around thrice. Before she knew it, her dirty work clothes had been altered. The fluttering apron gave way to a lovely sock hop dress in black and white, complete with a little Boris in the place of the typical poodle. The skirt billowed as she spun around. Her hat turned into a lovely headband, letting her long locks flow free while still tucked nicely behind her ears. And of course, she had some dancing shoes. She shrieked in surprise as the demon dipped her down, both from the act itself and from the change in accessories. "Whoa...I don't think I've ever worn something so fancy before!" 

"What can I say dollface, when you dance with the darling, you only get the finest." He grinned and pulled her back up. "Swing with me toots!" 

And she did just that. It felt like hours, and yet it passed by like the blink of an eye. Bendy lived up to his title as he led her through a complex but enjoyable swing dance, busting out all the impressive moves like the showoff he was. Bella smiled and laughed the whole way through, skirt twirling all over the place. Her feet knew exactly what to do, every part of them both was so sure of the next move, so confident in the next step. It was a feeling of bliss one could only find in a dream. They gave into their intuition, and it rewarded them with heaven. 

Eventually, though, their dance had to end, and that's when the crowd burst into applause! And there were Alice and Boris, standing up from the first row of the velvet cushioned seating, whistling and cheering for their performance. And who sat next to them? A candle in a dapper vest, with a flame for a head. He hopped up too throughout the clapping.

"What a lovely show!" Alice exclaimed. "Surely you'll invite me next time, won't you darlings?" 

"For you, angel face? Anything." Bendy laughed as he approached the edge of the stage. He reached out a gloved hand to pull each of them up to join their duo. 

Boris stood tall next to Bella, scratching the back of his head all nervous-like. "Well golly gee Miss Bella, that certainly was something! You musta worked up quite an appetite after that!"

Fiero chuckled and took her hand. "I know a place that would treat us just fine. Care to head to the cafe for a bite? We've got ice cream tonight." He teased.

Bella hugged the candle so tightly that he was stunned for a moment. "Would I ever! Pretty please with a cherry on top!" 

Fiero laughed and hugged her back. "Alright. Miss Angel, Mr. Wolf, please escort our fair lady over there. Ben and I will join you in a bit once we clean up here."

"You've got it sugar, we'll see you soon!" Alice said with a wave. "Come on Bella, let's head on over!" 

The artist grinned and ran along with them, excited to have some company for dessert. 

Both Bendy and Fiero let out a sigh of relief once she was gone. But then it had to get serious. Not all dreams can be sugarplums forever after all. 

"Alright Benny, give it to me straight. What are you doing here with my girl?"

"Sorry bud, I'm on official business. Belphene asked me to step in for an evening while she took care of things at home."

The candle shook his head and scowled. "You can't fool me bud. Any toon with their head screwed on right knows the curse that comes from your little studio. Why are you really here? What does Drew want with my girl?" 

Bendy sighed and rubbed his temples. "Look candle head, I dunno how to break this to you, but your creator over there is in a bad way. Belphy hasn't given me all the details, but to my understanding, it looks like a business deal. He's been thinking about rebuilding the studio for a long time now, my guess is she's a new hire."

"What?! Rebuild JDS, now?! But he's flat out broke, and way too old to manage a business. Not to mention how cruel he was to your staff. All those miserable faces, it was deplorable!" Fiero winced, suddenly feeling chills up his spine. "I don't like this, it's only a matter of time before he tries to steal my copyright too then. But that's not nearly as important as what's gonna happen to her...Ben, I'm worried. She's still just a kid, ya can't let Drew hurt her the way he did everyone else. He's bad news."

"Ya think I don't know that? I can't stop him Fiero, he's got all the aces in his deck."

"You're an actual demon! Don't you control the deal?"

"No! And I'm not even the one who made it to begin with!" He growled and pulled at his face. "Believe me, if I had the power to stop Joey from being a moron, I woulda done it by now. But I don't. Belphy is the one with the contract, ya gotta take it up with her. I wouldn't recommend that right now, seeing as she's filling in for me, but ya know-"

"She's doing what now?! Ben, he's gonna catch on at some point if you keep doing this." Fiero latched onto his gloved hands. "All of us over in Toontopia are worried about you guys. You're some of the best cartoons to ever cross the screen, and Drew has done nothing but destroy your legacy. I don't want him to destroy  _ you  _ next. Because that's what'll happen. He destroyed his staff, next comes the art. I don't wanna see you disappear-"

"Or get corrupted, I know. I've been over this with practically every toon that sees me when I get a breather, can I please not worry about it for one night?" He pleaded. "I was sent to give your gal a little love and comfort while she's in the hospital, okay? Just let me do that for a night."

"Wait, she's where?!" Fiero was stunned. "H-how did I not know, am I disconnecting, a-am I not enough, am-"

"Whoa whoa, easy there, you're gonna set something on fire!" Bendy warned as the flames grew hotter on his head. "It's not your fault, and it's not hers either. She hasn't drawn much in a few days now, give her time to get better, then she'll come back to you."

"Come back to who, Bendy?" 

The two had spoken so long that they hadn't noticed the scene shift. They'd found themselves on a white backdrop, with a small table that Bendy was forced to sit at, while Fiero served him a coffee. They both looked up, frightened by the voice they heard.

There he was, Mr. Drew, staring right through their page: Bella's illustration. 

Suddenly, they had much bigger problems to worry about.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The mood finally struck for me to add to this, and I'm so glad I took the time to get all my thoughts down. I love writing dream sequences, they can be so much fun, and this one was no different. Forgive me if there's too much of the OCs, I love creating characters, you'll have to indulge me just a little bit this time around. I'm psyched to get to the next chapter and show you what Joey is up to with that paper. I've thought long and hard about what the rules are with my toon logic and how it manifests, so hopefully it'll all pay off for us soon! 
> 
> For those of you curious about the song briefly alluded to, it's Come Dance With Me sung by Frank Sinatra. My car has a tape player in it, so I listen to a lot of him on some tapes from the thrift store. This is one of my favorite songs from him, I sing along every time. Here's a link so you can enjoy it too!
> 
> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=h0EPnvFRTEs
> 
> Yes, I know Sinatra is a little late for this fic. I keep going back and forth on when it takes place. I know for sure I want Bella to have been born sometime in the 40s when Bendyland was still in production and getting canceled, meaning she's very young by the events of the book, and Henry has already left. I am modifying the canon just a little so that Henry stayed around longer than the first few years. I always thought it was weird that "30 years" was designated as the amount of time since Henry and Joey worked together, like why would you have that much of a vendetta against an employee you only had for a few years? I prefer to write it as they knew each other, or at least worked together in some portion, for thirty years, to give them some hope of actually having some kind of friendship. I'm still working out the timeline in my head. But that's enough for now. Thank you all so much for reading! I'd really love to hear what you think in the comments!


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